Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Sometimes, It's Okay to Shoot People in a Movie Theater

American hero Curtis Reeves, a man who was driven mad by movie theater texting.

Do you ever go to the movies sometimes?

And you’ve just spent $79 on two movie tickets, a large
bucket of radioactive, um, it looks like popcorn, and a slightly smaller, but
really not much smaller bucket of dark brown corn syrup and fizzy water? And some Chiklets?

You’ve sat through 45
minutes of infomercials and coming attractions, and now you’re just settling in
to watch Markey Mark wave the American flag around and slaughter some brown
people from a foreign country because of how much they hate us for our Freedom.

Or because, you know, soldiers are like brothers. Or because we need to get out of this alive. Some reason like that. There's always a pretty good reason to kill brown people with advanced weaponry.

You know that feeling.
It’s one of anticipation and excitement, because in a sense,
it’s almost like you’re going to slaughter those brown people.

Except really you’re just going to sit there in the flickering,
booming dark, and Markey Mark is actually too old to fight in a war, and no
brown people are going to be harmed, because we’re all God’s children
anyway.

So things are kind of pleasant.

But then here’s this guy sitting nearby, and of course he’s
playing with his phone. He’s sending
texts, and giggling to himself, and every couple of minutes, he’s getting a
text back, and his phone goes “Ringy Dingy Ding Dong!” every time he gets a
text. And it’s loud.

You’re thinking, “Is this guy going to keep doing this
right through the movie?” It sure looks
like he is, even though roughly 15 minutes of the 45 minutes of infomercials
were instructional in nature, about how you should TURN YOUR PHONE OFF NOW.

The thought occurs to you: “Never mind all that
God’s children crap. If I had a gun right now, I’d
blow that guy’s head off.”

But the better angels of your nature take hold, and you think, well, I’ll just politely ask him to
stop.

He glances at you, and it seems he is not even remotely
concerned by what he sees. In fact, he’s
dismissive of you.

“Whaaat?" he says. "Go fuck yourself.”

Then he goes right back to texting. And his girlfriend sits there next to him
sort of simpering and chortling because she’s glad he hasn’t smacked her upside
the head so far today. In fact, she’s
glad you spoke up, because if you play your cards right, he might be smacking
you in another minute, instead of her.
He’s gotta smack somebody.

Fun, isn’t it? Going
to the movies is a nice break from your normal day to day stress.

And now your heart is beating in a noticeable way, which wasn't the case just a minute ago, and you think, “Boy, I'd really love to blow that fucking
guy’s brains all over his girlfriend’s lap.”

Well, this past weekend just outside of Tampa, a man did
exactly that. More or less.

Chad Oulson, who died because he was rude and wouldn't stop texting. Now his little daughter is going to grow up without Daddy, which is sad. But Chad himself? It's kind of hard to feel sorry for him.

After Oulson threw his radioactive popcorn in Reeves’s face,
Reeves took out a .380 caliber pistol and shot Oulson through the chest,
killing him dead.

So what’s my point here?

Well, Reeves is probably a little nutty. Maybe he has a little bit of an anger
management problem, and he’s gonna need some counseling for that. He should probably think about leaving his gun at home next time.

When I go to the movies, or anywhere, I usually bring things
I’m gonna need. Keys? Check.
Money? Check.

Gun? Uh...

You really don’t need to bring your gun to the movies, even
if you think people are going to be texting.
Especially if you think people are going to be texting. Guns are funny things. They’re heavy, and you can feel them there,
and they send you a quiet little message over and over, which goes like this:

“Use me. Use me. Use me.”

But what about Oulson?
The guy was TEXTING DURING A MOVIE.
You’re not supposed to do that.
It’s rude. It’s obnoxious. Do you really want to be that person? Then, when some old man called him on it, he
attacked the guy. Now Oulson is dead,
but I have trouble feeling sorry for him.

When I was a young man, I was taught that the only people
you’re allowed to attack are other young men.
Now that I’m middle-aged, I kind of rely on the idea that young men are
still taught this.

I would never, ever attack an old man for any reason. Especially not here in Florida, where
apparently, everybody but me and Chad Oulson is carrying a concealed weapon.